Symposium
by BookHippie
Summary: Tendershipping, puzzleshipping, bronzeshipping, and puppyshipping. Four presidents of big companies each want an intern over the summer, but why do they look and feel so similar? And what of the presidents mysterious pasts? Lemons/Limes later on.
1. Chapter 1

**Symposium: Chapter One**

**As defined by Wikipedia, _The Symposium_ (Ancient Greek: Συμπόσιον) is a philosophical text by Plato dated c. 385–380 BCE. It concerns itself at one level with the genesis, purpose and nature of love. **

**Genesis is defined as the coming into being of something; the origin. Purpose is defined as the object toward which one strives or for which something exists; an aim or a goal. Love is defined as a deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness. **

**All three are subject to change.**

* * *

Ryou Bakura sat outside a modern coffee shop a block away from where his interview was to take place, sipping a fancy latte (that would've gotten him made fun of at his high school) and reading the paper. Jittery enough without the caffeine, the white-haired boy attempted to calm himself down by distracting himself, therefore, the paper was obviously the prime choice.

"Egyptian Four Take the World by Storm!" screams the headlines, only succeeding to _remind_ him of his tension.

Yes, these "Egyptian Four", or, as everyone _but _the papers called them, the Millennium Brothers, owned _huge _corporations that, when put together, could buy out any other business in the world. Anyone who worked for these mysterious people said they were great minds, but seemed rather…off their rockers, so to speak. It didn't help that their pasts were a complete mystery –even the best paparazzi couldn't dig up information-, but their very selves set people on edge. None of them really had much to do with anyone that _wasn't _one of their fellow Brothers, so it shook the world to the core when all four announced (at the end of Ryou's junior year) that they each needed an intern.

People flooded in from parts all over the world, all for different reasons, but with the same goal –to be chosen by one of the four. Oddly though, all four had their main company (I.E. head) in Domino City, and only had one day, the same day, for interviewing possible interns. If Ryou actually knew any of them, he might have assumed they all chose the same day on purpose just to fuck up traffic in the city for a day, but, instead, all he knew came from the rumors.

Seto Kaiba, the one Ryou _really _wanted to intern for, wore rather silly, cape-like jackets, black combat boots, and a long-sleeved black turtleneck with black pants. Kaiba had short brown hair and extremely cold blue eyes. The rumors stated that Kaiba loved money and games (that's why he owned the world's largest game technology company), but hated people, and was known for being stuck-up and cruel. Kaiba also remained the only one of the four that had been seen by the public –no one had ever seen, much less found out the names, of the other three brothers. Being an intern meant surpassing everyone else and _finally _getting to meet these hidden geniuses.

Ryou didn't have much hope that he would meet the business man's qualifications, but it didn't hurt to try, and god knows he could use the money…. Interrupted by beeping from his green wristwatch, he shot up, nearly knocking over his half-full cup, and banged his knee off the iron table as he raced out of the courtyard.

"No," he murmured unhappily to himself as he ran the block to the large building, "I'm going to be late…."

He pushed through early-morning joggers and interns on coffee runs, both types of people giving him dirty looks. Soon, Ryou could only hope he'd be one of those people.

Tardiness could be a _huge _issue if Kaiba liked punctuality, but, when he saw the line of people flooding in even now, he sighed in relief, knowing that he could still make it. Line moving quickly, the large mass of people somehow fit into the lobby, even though there were probably four times as many people inside.

The lobby, though extremely crowded with people, looked enormous. White, white everywhere –except for the large fountain in the center of the building that had a large blue dragon breathing water.

An extremely harried looking boy ran the secretary's desk –even though there was no way he could be older than ten. The boy pulled out a bull horn, and yelled into it, "Hey! I assume you're all here for the internship? If you are, please put your resume on this desk then fall back into the banquet hall!"

As to be expected, all hell broke loose, everyone wanting to be first into the hall. Push came to shove, and shove came to trample –some people even cut through the expensive-looking fountain –not caring about being wet, just wanting to avoid the crowd. Unluckily, Ryou was one of the trampled –knocked over and having his hands and portfolio stepped on repeatedly. Grimacing, and standing up, the chocolate-eyed boy saw the now-_trashed_ lobby; random papers and forgotten pieces of clothes aimlessly lying everywhere. He sighed; even the trampled were now in the hall –he was the last person.

Great. Wonderful impression he'd give.

"Hey!" called the boy, worried, "Are you okay?"

Ryou turned his head to look at the boy with black hair and dark blue eyes, "Yes, nothing's broken." He affirmed, strolling up to the desk, eyeing the dirty footprints on his poor portfolio.

The boy blinked in confusion, "Bakura? What are _you _doing here?"

Now it was Ryou's turn to be confused. How did this boy know his name?

"Um," Ryou asked politely, "do I know you from somewhere?"

He put his hands on his hips, now looking irritated, "Yes, you do! You know, Kaiba's little brother?" He waited for a response that never came, and then added, in exasperation, "My name is Mokuba?"

"Oh," Ryou continued, wondering what he did to irritate him, "it's nice to meet you –I'm Ryou Bakura." He emphasized Ryou, just in case Mokuba knew another Bakura, somehow.

The brunette's expression changed completely –it went from anger and irritation to sheepish.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I had you confused with someone else," he laughed, personally taking the file off the white-haired boy, "go on in." The next part he whispered, "Seto isn't coming down for another twenty minutes, so you have some time."

Ryou smiled at the kind boy, delighted. He had already made a friend here, and it was Kaiba's little brother! He just _had _to get a job here! Now, with that little confidence boost, he walked through the monstrous lobby, opening the doors to the ball room with some backbone.

The ball room was quite grand –when it _wasn't _cluttered up with long tables full of gadgets. It had two crystal chandeliers hanging at either side of the room, both incredibly bright. Murky light from the overcast day trickled in from the large skyscraper windows at the north end, giving the whole room a long-shadowed effect, and hiding most of the people's faces from view.

The tables were all filled, but Ryou figured he'd find _some _place to wedge himself in. That wasn't the case –he ended up behind a pillar, right by the window. If he felt like it, he could reach out and touch the spotless panes.

Instead, he reached the opposite way, running his pale fingers over the tools and equipment gently, almost reverently. His father being an archaeologist, Ryou had heard many stories on how good tools, when treated right, could save your life. A feeling of comfort stealing over him, the front doors to the hall banged open, a tall figure standing in front of a bright light source –or, the lobby's lights.

"Welcome," came a voice, obviously amplified by an ear-piece microphone, "if you expected a warm welcome and individual interviews, I'm sorry to disappoint. But, if you want a _slight _chance to get on my good side, I don't want to hear any whining. Now, to begin, you will construct something out of the parts in front of you –anything that I may find interesting or useful. You are also to come up with a pitch for it, decide what age groups it will be for, total cost productions, cost _deductions_, and plot lines, if necessary. If you cannot do any of these tasks, save us both some hassle and get out now –if you don't know what any of these words _mean_, you're an idiot and had also better leave. I don't tolerate idiots."

Many of the people began murmuring amoust themselves, and about a fourth of the people left –even though some that stayed didn't appear to be skilled at all in this field. Ryou, luckily, wasn't just here for the money; making/designing/playing games truly was his passion. And, even though it isolated him at school, in this environment, he clearly had the advantage.

Brainstorming for a few minutes, he had the perfect idea. Laughingly enough, though, about half of the people there were trying to create the _actual _game first –without sketching it and it's dimensions first. Even after _that_ they should only make a model –never the real deal until everything _else _was figured out.

Ryou drew his game board and its features on charting paper, giving it removable parts that could be interchanged, and listing the main parts that every basic board of the game had to have.

Next, he drew follow up schematics of a character set (that could be purchased separately to personalize the piece beyond the basic four heroes, four townspeople, and dark master). Finally, on college-sheet paper, he began doing approximate math calculations for the material costs for one basic game set (then doing the characters sets and interchangeable parts). He was pleased to discover that, with the buying and shipping costs, if they sold one game board for thirty-five dollars each, they'd make a decent product. The add-ons and character sets also coming out according to plan, the white-haired boy started on a to-scale model, even after working for three hours straight.

He didn't dare stop –not that he wanted to, but, anyone caught taking a break was immediately escorted from the room by large, suited men –a man of business like Kaiba had no room for slackers, apparently.

Ryou worked hard at making his model, and, when he finished, checked his watch. Five hours had passed total, and many people were gone –some unable to do any of the requirements, and others needing a break.

Kaiba reappeared soon after, similar to the way he did before, and called out, "Time is up. Drop your tools and let me see –you make take a bathroom break, and complementary food will be distributed."

The same suited men that escorted people out now pushed carts around that were stocked full of everything from rice bowls to ice cream, using expensive and rather delicate looking plates and bowls.

Ryou took a full meal; some rice, fish, tea, and ice cream for dessert while he waited for Kaiba to reach his table. He ate carefully, leaning away from the table to keep his precious work safe from the food. After about fifteen minutes –the brown-eyed boy had moved on to his ice cream-, a loud crash resounded. Ryou peeked from behind the Ionic pillar, just as curious as everyone else.

Kaiba had swept a project off the table, much to the creator's horror.

His cold, _angry _blue eyes swept through the room, men and women alike cringing from the gaze. "Does _anyone_," he began calmly, "have anything here that _isn't _wasting my time?"

Not sure what came over him, Ryou stepped forward, raising a hand. Then, blushing immediately when realizing he indirectly said his idea was better than all the others.

Eyes widening slightly, Kaiba stared Ryou down, making the poor boy feel about two inches tall. Kaiba then nodded and walked over, handling the blueprints and models just as gently as their creator. His eyes scanned them quickly, then he moved on to the stats and building materials.

"…Come with me," he spoke, conveying no emotions in his voice.

Trying not to get his hopes up, he followed, staying close, as they walked out into the lobby and called an elevator, Mokuba watching them with interest, sending Ryou a thumbs-up when their eyes met. A soft ping announcing the machine's arrival, Ryou snapped his attention back to his possible-future-boss, and they stepped inside.

As soon as the doors slid shut, Kaiba pressed the top floor button, and turned to _glare _at Ryou.

"What the hell is your problem, Bakura?" he snapped, "Why are you here?"

Ryou's face slid down in horror –this reaction was so much worse than he thought, and started babbling.

"Well, Kaiba-sama, I really love games, and need the money, so I-"

"Wait," Kaiba cut him off, "_what _did you just call me?"

As unbecoming as it was to be scared of someone that couldn't be more than a couple years older than him, Ryou was terrified, and barely able to whisper, "K-Kaiba-s-sama…."

To this, Kaiba asked, still looking suspicious, "What's your _full _name?"

The question was asked like the boy wouldn't answer it, but Ryou replied, "Ryou. Ryou Bakura."

Kaiba just nodded, and quit questioning him –the duo spending the rest of the elevator ride in silence.

The white-haired boy just wondered _why _people kept mistaking him for someone else: it's not like white hair was _common _or anything.

The elevator coming to a gentle stop, Kaiba stepped ahead and out, the wannabe intern waiting his turn. The office they emerged into resembled a living room/study: Half of it was carpeted and had couches in front of a TV, while the other had tiles and a large desk. Ryou would have been shocked if they had stayed in the living room area, and, following Kaiba over to the desk, wasn't disappointed.

Kaiba took a seat in the leather revolving chair, clasping his hands in front of him, evaluating the possible _intern_ in front of him.

After a staring contest that lasted _way _too long for Ryou's comfort, Kaiba finally spoke, "You could be useful with a little fine tuning… I expect you see you here at eight every morning –except Friday, Saturday, and Sunday; I'll page you if I need you on those days."

Ryou, unable to speak, took the small gray pager off his new boss, stunned. "Y-Yes sir!" he stammered, incapable of accepting that he, a worthless, anti-social albino had won out over so many others.

"You're dismissed for today –but wear comfortable shoes to walk in tomorrow; you're going to help me and my brothers out," Kaiba informed, spinning his chair so that he now faced the large windows.

"Hai Kaiba-sama," Ryou murmured, bowing, and then heading for the elevator.

The ride down he stayed calm, stared dazedly at the chrome walls that warped his reflection. Entering the lobby, he heard the pissed voices for about forty seconds as the guards informed them of their boss's decision, before he was back outside, sun already sunk behind Domino City's skyscrapers. It was then that he realized just exactly _whom _he'd be meeting tomorrow –the famous Sennin brothers.

* * *

***looks nervous as hell* I'm very much a Narutard, but, I love Yugioh as well and thought I'd give my own story a try...I know the Yugioh community isn't as big as the Naruto one, but I still hope people enjoy (or at least don't hate) this! It's truly my pride right now, and, I'm working on updating Stress of Marriage, if you found this through my other stories.**

**Please review!**

**~Lyssa-chan**


	2. Chapter 2

**Symposium: Chapter Two**

"_**After the division the two parts of man, each desiring his other half, came together, and throwing their arms about one another, entwined in mutual embraces, longing to grow into one, they were on the point of dying from hunger and self-neglect, because they did not like to do anything apart; and when one of the halves died and the other survived, the survivor sought another mate, man or woman as we call them,-being the sections of entire men or women,-and clung to that. They were being destroyed." **_

_**–"The Symposium" –Plato**_

* * *

Ryou woke up in a cold sweat as the alarm on his clock chimed 6:30. He shot up in bed, pale green T-shirt clinging to him as he breathed deeply, wondering why a dream he couldn't even remember bothered him so much. It couldn't have been about the accident –he _always _remembered those dreams, and this dream left a faint sense of longing, not despair. Shrugging it, along with his pale blue sheets, off, he rose from bed too quickly, staggering from the vertigo, and then moving into his bathroom.

Everything in his apartment was exceedingly tidy –a painful reminder of his lack of a social life, but no longer starting today! Who knew, maybe he'd even make a friend or two working for Kaiba?

In this positive line of thought, Ryou showered and poured himself some cereal –no milk in the bowl. He never understood why people _liked _making their cereal soggy and flavorless, but hey, opinions…. The brown eyed boy was also pretty sure that most people didn't eat breakfast in only their underwear, but, hey, when he was tired, he'd wait til he got some energy. It's not like anyone could disturb him.

Finishing and stacking his bowl and glass in the sink for cleaning later, he went to get dressed, putting on blue jeans, a blue and white striped shirt, and a light jacket over it –wearing his usual white sneakers. Lacing them up and leaving the apartment, he locked up, ready for whatever the Sennin brothers threw at him….or, that's what he told himself.

Nearly tripping over a box on his doorstep, he frowned, picking it up. If it was mail for him, it'd be in his mail slot in the main lobby, so it made no sense for a package to be there. On the white shipping paper taped to it, his name was clearly spelled out, negating the idea that someone else dropped it. More like someone else dropped it _off_. He bent down to pick up the package when his butt vibrated.

Ryou shot up, having forgotten that he'd slipped his pager into his jeans' back pocket the night before, and pulled it out to read the message, package forgotten. In red scrolling text, it read "Change of plans. Everyone's meeting up at the McDonald's on the north side". Ryou sighed in relief that Kaiba had sent it _before _he left –but, his apartment was on the _south _side, so lateness, just like yesterday, might be inevitable.

Cursing his lack of a car –even though he had a license his dad didn't want him driving-, he could only hope for an empty cab. On a Tuesday morning. Perfect. If yesterday was a precedent for the rest of his working life, he might want to get his dad to reconsider the car thing.

Emerging from his building, he tried waving down taxies for about five minutes in vain, about to give in and make "the call". After another minute, he pulled out his beat-up, but reliable little phone, and dialed the number.

"Moshi moshi!" answered a cheerful voice, "It's good to hear from you Bakura-kun! Did you get that job?"

"Hello Miho," Ryou responded, relieved that she was awake this early, "and yes, I did. But I have a slight problem…"

A laugh resonated on the other end of the conversation, "Need a ride eh? I'll be over in five." And with a beep, Miho hung up, probably to touch up her make up before coming to get him.

They lived in the same building, and Miho harbored a crush on him since he moved to Domino City two years ago –hence it taking her five minutes to reach him when all she had to do was go behind the building to the parking lot for her car.

He back away from the curb, instinctively drawing away from the street and the cars on it. Even though he was a good driver, he and his father shared a mutual dislike of automobiles. Thankfully, as Miho promised, precisely five minutes later a car turned around the right side of the building, the purple-haired girl taking one hand off the wheel to wave at her crush.

Ryou felt horrid that he didn't like her back, but, she was an extremely positive girl, who, when told that he wasn't looking for a relationship, replied with "someday, you _will _love me! I don't give up so easy, ya know!"

She pulled to a stop, and yelled, "By the way, where are we going?"

Walking around the car to the passenger seat, he replied, "McDonald's. North side." Pausing, and then blushing slightly, he added, "Thank you. You are, as always, the one to save my sorry behind."

She laughed, a full, hearty sound, "What would you do without me?"

She then filled the ten minute car ride with typical Miho-banter; the radio on as loud as it could go with her talking _over _it, occasionally stopping to sing along. Even though Ryou's head practically wasn't in the car, she knew he was listening –her car's a/c long broke, hanging your head out the window in summer was optimal.

"So…" she drawled out, showing that she was serious, "any ideas for college yet? The guidance counselors really got on me for that back in May."

Ryou paused, and then said, "I want to major in Graphics and Multimedia, but I may take another major –if I do, it'd be in Folklore and Ethnomusicology."

She stared at him, speechless, before a car horn honking took her attention back to the road, "Yeesh Bakura-kun! You're _worse _than them! Why –no, _how _do you already know? Wait, I _did _mean why."

Ryou blushed, but still answered, "Just something I felt like doing in my free time a couple weeks ago."

"Well," she brushed her bangs out of her eyes, "next time your boredom gets to _that _level, come find me."

Her words brought an embarrassed flush to his cheeks, but he didn't regret his actions –at least his boredom would keep the counselors off his back.

"We're here!" announced Miho with a flourish, "Now get out of my car –I've got somewhere to be!"

Smiling at Miho, he told her once more, "Thank you," and got out, walking across the crosswalk and into the McDonald's.

Huge menu boards and signs meant to entertain people while they waited for their food were everywhere, some of the kanji illegible to Ryou. Even though his mom's side of the family was Japanese, and forced him to study it, some kanji still eluded him.

Looking around the thinly populated fast food restaurant, all he saw were people taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi, drinking coffee to keep themselves awake at this ungodly hour.

"Hey!" called a friendly voice to his left, "Bakura-kun!"

Ryou turned to the left, seeing a boy emerging from behind a divider wall, and smiled in recognition. "Hello Yugi-kun."

The boy with tri-colored hair walked over grinning pleasantly. The two didn't know each other very well, but they went to school together and were beaten up by the same bullies, so there was certain camaraderie to them.

"Not to be rude," Ryou began, "but what are you doing at a McDonald's so early in the morning?"

To the question, Yugi's smile became more humble, "I'm an intern for Industrial Illusions and I'm waiting to meet the brothers and the other interns."

"_You're _Industrial Illusions' new intern?" Ryou began, marveling at the luck –that two people from the same city (and school) had been chosen from so many.

Yugi blushed in shame, and Ryou realized how bad his words sounded.

"No!" he exclaimed, face flushing at his error of words, "I mean, _I'm _Kaiba Corporations' new intern!"

The amethyst-eyed boy looked down in surprise, and appeared to be marveling over what he'd just been told, then shook his head and said, "Wow…"

Ryou nodded in agreement, but then asked, "Were you doing something before I interrupted?"

Head shooting up, he answered (mostly to himself, it sounded), "Oh! I was going to order for everyone before they started arriving…"

"Don't let me stop you," the white haired boy told him kindly, "I'll take a seat."

The short boy nodded, and resumed his menu-searching, while Ryou went to sit down at the tables Yugi had pushed together, taking the seat in the dead middle. His eyes drooped sadly at his own cowardice with the short boy. It's not that he had a problem with Yugi –he seemed like a really nice guy, but Ryou didn't know him all that well and couldn't help feeling a tad bit nervous.

He sat in silence for a minute or so, just letting his drowsy thoughts wander. The loud roar of a motorcycle sounded by the windows on the left side of the building, snapping him out of his trance and allowing him to observe an odd looking guy enter through the double set of glass doors. This guy wore black pants, a very light purple shirt with two gold chains hanging across his chest, gold earrings, a gold necklace and gold armbands. From the obvious foreign-ness to the guy, Ryou assumed that this guy was one of the apprentices, and decided to go talk to him.

"Hello," Ryou smiled politely.

The boy's pale purple eyes fixed on his in a manner that made the brown-eyed boy blush.

"Are you one of the interns?" the tanned boy asked bluntly, an odd accent twanging in his question.

"U-Um, yes..." Ryou stuttered unintentionally, the strange boy making him feel uncomfortable.

The boy smirked at this, "Good. That makes things easier. Who are you?"

Wishing for Yugi's return, Ryou quietly answered, "Bakura. Ryou Bakura."

The smirk widened, "Ishtar. Malik Ishtar. And, is there an accent to your Japanese I hear?"

A little creeped by how similar Malik's question was to his own, he replied, "I grew up in London, but I've been speaking Japanese since I was ten."

The blonde nodded, "And, as the answer to the question I _know _you're wondering, _my _accent's Egyptian."

Ryou blushed at having been read so easily, and Malik went on, "Shall we sit down and wait for the others?"

Malik sat across from Ryou, leaning his head on his clasped hands, staring boredly out the same windows he just walked by. The white haired boy couldn't help staring at him, forgetting the previously wished for alone time, wondering what to say to the Egyptian.

"Like something you see?" Malik boredly asked, quirking an eyebrow at Ryou's blush, the latter whipping his head to the side.

"I –uh-"

Thankfully Ryou's intelligent thought was interrupted by Yugi, the cheerful boy bringing over array of coffee, creams, and one…McFlurry, for some odd reason.

"Are you one of the interns?" Yugi smiled welcomingly, setting the tray down, then sitting on Ryou's right, the latter grabbing three packets of creamer and his promised caffeine.

Malik snagged a coffee, paying no heed to the flavorings or the heat, and replied, "I think a better question would be, how did they let a grade schooler become an intern?"

The poor boy just blinked a few times, stunned that someone he just met could be so blunt, but eventually retorted, "I'm in _high _school!"

"Then why do you drink kiddie shit?" filtered a voice from behind said insulted boy.

They all turned their heads, even Malik, to see a guy who _resembled_ Malik. This guy's blonde hair was either unmanageable, or he spiked it purposefully to make him look nuts. The eyes and skin tone, though, were scarily similar. Spikey wore a black tank top (with a dark purple cape), tan khaki pants, and gold jewelry _just like _Malik's (except he didn't have any on his shirt).

Not reacting to the similarity, Yugi frowned, "Sugar wakes me up."

The new guy slid himself into the chair next to Malik's, ignoring his twin's look of disbelief, and asked, "Why not drink coffee? You brought it for everyone _else, _and I'm pretty sure _that _costs more."

"Yeah, but I don't _like _coffee," Yugi admitted sheepishly.

"Wimp," the guy snorted in his rough voice (that, like everything else, seemed extremely similar to Malik's), snagging one of the coffees for himself, "Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself…"

Malik's eyes flashed slightly, but he remained as silent as he had been since his twin had arrived.

"The name's Marik. Marik Sennin," he took a long drink from his cup, setting it down with a lazy smirk.

Yugi and Ryou blinked rapidly, unable to comprehend the looks and names. But, Ryou had a weird feeling….that was about more than just the similarity. Malik even stared openly now, his eyes narrowing.

"What. The-"

"Hey, are you all the interns?" interrupted a voice from in front of the table.

A guy stood there, a wide eyed look on his face. This guy, unlike all the others, seemed to have difficulty speaking in Japanese, and had an accent worse than Malik and Marik's. He wore a high-collared green jacket over a white T-shirt and blue jeans.

"What does it look like, idiot?" snipped a voice, Kaiba taking a seat at the head of the table after pushing past the boy.

"_Asshole," _the boy grumbled in English, forgetting which language to speak when the brunette pissed him off.

"Jounouchi Katsuya everyone," smirked Marik in his demented sounding voice, "hailing all the way from Brooklyn, New York!"

Well, that explained the accent.

"So I'm assumin' _you're _my boss?" Jounouchi frowned, grabbing a coffee, drinking it black like everyone _but _Ryou took it.

Marik laughed, a rather disturbing sound, and replied, "I think we'll get along _splendidly...", _somehow answering Jounouchi's question without really answering it.

The table was silent after that, Malik never finishing his question though he would turn to glare at Marik every so often, as would Jou with Kaiba. Ryou smartly kept his eyes down, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but, unfortunately, Yugi had no such belief at the moment. The amethyst-eyed boy stared curiously at Jounouchi, most likely wondering if a possible friend could be found in the crude boy.

"What'cha starin' at, ya spikey-haired freak?" growled Jou at Yugi, the latter looking hurt.

"Um, I'm Yugi," the shorter boy spoke shyly, but kindly, "it's very nice to meet you, Jounouchi-kun."

"What the hell!" yelled Jounouchi, pointing at Yugi, "Don't be so damn familiar, I am _not _your sex slave!"

Yugi's face showed injury and disbelief, while the rest of the table stared on in silent '_wtf?' _expressions. His honey eyes were both defensive and confused at once….somehow.

"What? What'd I say wrong?" his eyes shifted back from one end of the table to the other.

"Jounouchi…" Yugi spoke before anyone could insult the blonde, "the suffix 'kun' is a respectful term for men."

Jou blinked several times rapidly, "Oh. I knew that."

Malik muttered, everyone else respecting Yugi's attempt to keep Jou from being insulted, "How did manage to say something as complicated as that instantly when saying asshole before was too much to bother?"

Marik snickered at this, Malik giving him a look for this, still mistrustful of his look-a-like. Oddly, though, after this, the group settled into a peaceful quiet, sipping their various drinks (minus Kaiba, who eyed the cheap coffee with scorn). Of course, though, this sanity only lasted for about two minutes, before _Yugi's _twin showed up, dressed in tight leather pants, a leather tank top, a collar, and…what appeared of be…leather shoes, if that was possible.

"Hello," came a deep voice from a face that so resembled Yugi's, minus the serious red eyes and height difference, "am I late?"

"Nah," snorted Marik, kicking his feet up on top of the table, "the only time you'd _dare _to be late, Pharaoh, is to your own funeral."

The crimson eyes narrowed in a glare, and he took a seat on Kaiba's right, next to Malik. Then, his gaze shifted to Yugi, who shrunk back from the intensity of the leather-clad man.

"Did _you _get this coffee, little one?" this 'Pharaoh', as Marik called him, questioned softly.

The demeaning nickname spoken in that manor didn't seem quite as demeaning, and Yugi could tell it wasn't meant to be an insult. "Yes…" he spoke, "It's for everyone, so feel free to take one."

The Pharaoh smiled slightly, apparently laughing at some inside joke, and took one. "Yugi Moto, correct?"

Yugi's eyes widened, and he nodded.

"I'm your boss," he went on, "you can call me Yami. No honorifics needed."

"Aw," crooned Marik, "the boss and his intern!"

Kaiba growled in annoyance, "Can anything _intelligent _come out of your mouth?"

Ignoring the rest of the table, Ryou felt a sense of dread rush through him –yet again about the new boss not feeling right to him, for some reason. Curiosity was also present as he stared out the window, wondering who the last boss would be –considering two out of four resembled his friends. Yugi's voice filtered through Ryou's daydreaming, due to the lack of power in it.

"Now we're only waiting for…"

But before Yugi could finish his sentence, a guy pushed his way through the glass door, and suddenly a stupid American song that was playing was louder than ever. He had on black sunglasses, a black trench coat over a white T-shirt that had the words 'Thief King' written across it in spikey letters, and black (expensive looking) sneakers.

"Damn," growled Jou, "I assume that's him…_why _do they all think they're _so fucking badass?"_

Sure, it wasn't more extreme than Marik and Yami's clothes, but this guy…the vibe from before was back with a vengeance, even stronger than before, only getting worse when he removed his glasses, revealing his eyes. And, oddly, he could now tell what upset him from before were extremely negative emotions –that were now _seeping_ from the other presidents and directed at the new guy.

Yes, Ryou was pretty empathetic for a boy, but empathy did no good when the emotions read made no sense. Speaking of things making no sense, this guy-

"Is it me?" Malik interrupted Ryou's train of thought, "or does Bakura-kun have a twin?"

Marik and Yami's heads snapped toward Ryou at Malik's words, and they asked, simultaneously, "What the fuck?" It appeared that they too had missed the resemblance until now, and Marik alone input sarcastically, "After me 'n the Pharaoh, why am I surprised?"

Seto, looking bored, unless you looked at his eyes, calmly commanded, "My intern. Stand."

"Hey bastard!" growled Jou, "You can't order him around like some dog!"

Everyone but Yugi, who struggled to calm down the feisty blonde, turned to stare as Ryou stood up, facing his glaring doppelganger.

"Introduce yourselves," Seto commanded, still as calm as ever.

This guy…even though it felt like looking in a mirror, wasn't his exact twin –the edges were too sharp, too cruel to be accurate…that and the hair fluffed out even more than _his _unruly spikes.

"B-Bakura, sir," Ryou stammered, bowing respectfully and missing the startled look that passed over the man's face, "Ryou Bakura."

As he rightened himself, he noticed that the glare was now….suspicious.

"Bakura," growled the low voice, shocking Ryou.

This _is the Bakura they kept mistaking him for? _Was all poor Ryou could think while he waited for "Bakura" to give his first name. Which, after staring at the guy for about a minute, the brown-eyed boy figured was _not _going to happen.

"Well," Ryou trailed off nervously, going to sit back down when Bakura spoke, freezing his twin,

"Go by Ryou."

Said boy turned his head in confusion, he asked, "S-Sir?" He'd never admit it, but the idea of calling someone _else _Bakura made him slightly uncomfortable.

"You all," Bakura announced, ignoring the intern, "are to call him Ryou from now on."

Jou glared something fierce, but Yugi had a hand over his mouth, sensing the same danger that Ryou felt, yet somehow immune to the evil glare _from _Jounouchi. Malik, however, spoke up, irritated, "Why can't he be called Bakura? _You're _obviously Bakura-_sama._" He added tauntingly.

The white haired president smirked down at Malik, "Watch your mouth –who do you think hired you, tomb keeper?"

Malik's expression twisted to one of fury, "Do you not understand 'classified'? Cause I mentioned it a_ lot _yesterday."

Bakura's smirk widened rather sadistically, "No, I don't think I do. In fact, I think they all deserve to know _why _you're here."

Malik dared not speak back, glowering angrily at his revealed boss, thinking Bakura would stop there.

"He managed to convince his sister that, in exact quotes, "better enforcing for the tomb would make things easier for us"!" Bakura laughed at Malik's enraged blush.

"Your family guards a tomb?" Yami asked curiously, eyes shifting to his right.

"I think a better question would be," Kaiba interjected, cutting off whatever Malik _would _have said, "why aren't we leaving?"

He stood, marching out the door with, no one close behind, even though Jounouchi, Ryou, and Bakura were standing. The rest of them reluctantly stood, some making a side trip to pitch their coffees first, and others following slowly so as not to get too far ahead or behind anyone else. Bakura and the other bosses walked ahead, while the interns walked more slowly, Jou farther back and unwilling to walk with anyone.

So much had already happened, and the day had barely become. Well, Ryou reasoned, at least the rest of the day would be spared of any weirdness.

Right?

**

* * *

**

I thought I'd ask you guys, but, what do you think? Should the plot involve the Egyptians' past? Or should it strictly be these characters in this modern society? Oh, and also, tempted to give Ryou a lil crush on Malik? Thoughts on that? Oh, and finally, I'd like to thank all of you that favorited, alerted, or (especially) those of you that reviewed!

**~Lyssa-chan**


	3. Chapter 3

**Symposium: Chapter Three**

_**"Water is fluid, soft and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong." -Lao-tzu.**_

* * *

Jounouchi was _not _a happy camper at all –he didn't even want to get the _job_, much less the cape-wearing freak of a boss. But, no, he _also _had to end up with the freaks that his boss associated with. They all talked so fast in their stupid language, leaving Jounouchi in the dust. But, ever since his mom moved to Japan when he was ten (taking his little sister, Shizuka, with her), he had taken Japanese classes.

Oh, how he _hated _everything about this place –Yugi, if that was even his name, had _three different _colors in his hair NATURALLY! Freaking ridiculous!

He'd only come to Japan for one reason, not that he'd tell anyone that –he came for Shizuka. Her eyes had always been a problem, and it finally escalated; she would lose her sight by the end of the summer if specialists couldn't operate. And, that's why he found himself in front of a gold skyscraper on a Monday morning, attempting to get a paying job –not really caring _what _it was about.

Until the actual testing began, that is.

The building would only let in about twenty people at a time for random intervals of time, sometimes letting more people in as quickly as five minutes later, or as tediously-long later as forty-five minutes. At about four or five (who could tell in the crappy weather? Jounouchi sure couldn't.), he finally ended up inside with the last group of people waiting, and was immediately attacked by some beefy suit.

Luckily, growing up in Brooklyn pretty much guaranteed that he knew how to fight, so grabbing the guy's arm, twisting it behind his back, then slamming him up against the wall laid no real issue for the blonde.

"What's da meaning of this?" he growled, increasing his pressure on the guy's arm.

The suit stayed silent, only speaking after Jounouchi increased the pressure, "I-It's the test to see the eligibility of the possible interns! This _is _an exceedingly successful P.I. office, you know kid."

The blonde released him, the knowledge of what he'd be paid to do sinking in. If he got the job, he'd be paid to solve crimes and take people out! Jou grinned eagerly, heading further into the large ground floor; composed of the lobby and various screened-off areas in two other enormous rooms on either side of the lobby, no doors in sight. It would be ambush central, but Jounouchi was ready.

He ducked and weaved, the familiar feeling of hunting in his gang back home coming back like a helpful vengeance, and managed to beat down all the ones that came his way. So, when they stopped coming, he stopped and frowned.

"Hey!" he called, "Where'd ya all go?"

Another tall suit stepped into his view, but before Jou could launch himself at the man, the man spoke, "Congrats. You've made it past them all. You're now in the running, along with twenty-three others."

This one, who sported a gray mustache, pressed a hand to the center of Jou's back, guiding him through the open rooms to a private double-window/mirror room. The tough guys (and one girl) snorted when they saw a kid enter the room, being called the last of the lot.

"_This _pip squeak made it?" snorted a bald guy, "If that's the case, winning should be a piece of cake."

Arguments broke out throughout the room, and the blonde teen was about to join in, but, unlike the others, he noticed the single TV flicker on, a weird golden, _glowing _eye the only thing visible.

"_Bye bye,"_ snickered a voice in English, screen going hazy after the over-all vague message.

Before Jou had a chance to be _too _confused, a _huge _amount of ropes dropped from the apparently glass ceiling, some people dressed in all black descending with them.

"Freaking _ninjas?" _Jounouchi cried in exasperation at this point. Not that he was shocked at this point –figuring that this probably counted as the final test.

The blonde ran over to a rope close to the wall –that had a ninja clinging on to it further up-, and began scaling it, using the wall as a foot hold. The tough ropes rubbed against his –thankfully- calloused hands, feeling more weird than painful. From some grunts across the room, obviously not everyone had this advantage.

The ninja, Jou now having caught his attention, slid down the rope, seemingly planning to knock the blonde back to the floor, but the Brooklyn boy saw through this fast enough to swing to another rope, sending the unlucky ninja crashing down. Not exactly making the most graceful transfer, the fellow contender below him hollered up at Jou as the result of _him _almost relinquishing his grasp on the rope. Ignoring the muscle head hanging on for dear life, the determined blonde continued the excruciatingly slow climb to the roof.

Hearing several more cries of shock from ninja and contestants alike, Jou knew that he _might _just make it. Then the bald guy from before began yanking on his rope, trying to him to fall. Jou clung on for dear life, not able to reach for another rope in fear of falling. Instead, to his dismay, he felt his shoe sliding down his foot. Damn lack of money –if he had more to waste on shoes, he wouldn't have to buy them a size bigger (so he wouldn't grow out of them). Finally flinging itself off Jou's foot, the sneaker planted itself firmly in baldie's face, causing him to cry out in surprise and plunge to the awaiting floor. The teen smirked in victory, forgetting the fate of his shoe, and continuing the home stretch to reach the outside world.

The remaining ninja, seeing that he was the only one even remotely close to the finish line, converged on him all at once. Knowing his shoes wouldn't help him this time, Jou began using some _major _muscle, hoping to win without having to deal with the pajama brigade.

Almost, _almost _at the top, he realized that they were too close for him to keep climbing, so he positioned his hands sturdily on the rope and kept the rope still. When the first one came within reaching distance, he kicked off the wall, sticking his other foot out and pretty much kung-fu kicking the guy in his face.

Startled, the guy never saw it coming, and dropped like a stone. The others switched to offense, seeing that he was serious, and he sweatdropped, wondering if this job even mattered _that _much. Only about a foot to go, he resumed climbing, the ninja speeding up majorly.

Throwing a hand up over the roof, he started to haul himself over, when the added weight of a ninja almost dragged him to his defeat. Forgetting his pride temporarily, he made an unattractive 'nyeh' sound and began kicking down with the leg that wasn't held in a death-grip. The ninja let out soft grunts of pain, but instead of dropping like Jounouchi wanted, he began to swing back and forth, hoping his prisoner couldn't hold on with their combined weight.

"You guys are fucking _insane!" _Jou yelled down at the guy, though not able to hide his ecstatic grin that showed the actual meaning behind the words.

Resolving to make the situation as humiliating as possible for the masked guy, Jou picked up where he left off, hauling himself over the window sill up onto the roof, bringing the ninja with him. Or so he tried –because of the position the ninja was in, he smacked his head off the sill, renouncing his hold and falling a _long _way to the ground.

Jou, on the other hand, instead of collapsing from fatigue like he desired, hauled himself to his feet, ready for any more possible challenges. Instead, he found himself alone on the roof, only a fat manila envelope sharing his company. Shrugging, he walked over to it, and picked it up, turning it over in his hands, feeling almost apprehensive. In the end, though, putting it off was silly –there was no one else to compete against.

He pinched the two metal bits together and opened it, slipping a packet and a piece of torn lined paper out. The packet's words confused him, so he started with the single piece of neglected-looking paper. It was a note:

_To the lucky winner~_

_Well congrats! You're the new intern. Fill out the packet with your portfolio's information and leave it in the manila folder on the roof. Your work hours are whenever I choose, but for now, I expect to see you here at eight! Yes, in the morning. Keep your cell on and put down the number in the packet, it is how I will contact you. Clear? I hope so._

_-Co CEO of Sennin Enterprises_

A tick appearing, he asked, "The hell? And _where _am I supposed to get a pen?"

Dropping the papers and envelope in annoyance, a click 'resounded', and he muttered, "Oh magical envelope hath granted my wishes; truly, I am not worthy!"

Retrieving the pile, a pen rolled out of the thought-to-be empty packet, and he sighed, filling out the packet, then using the fire escape to leave the spy-movie-esque building.

Bumping into the Egyptian intern, who promptly sent Jou an evil glare, the honey-eyed boy snapped back to the present.

"We're here, Jounouchi-kun," Yugi quietly informed him, none of Jou's snips seeming to get past that spikey-haired freak. Bad term –after all, who (besides him and that jerk, what's-his-face) _didn't _have at least semi-spikey hair in their group?

Kaibaland. It was the brothers' self-indulged day off, they were freakin' _rich, _and their choice happened to be owned by…oh yeah, the prick's name was Kaiba.

Wait a minute, if they're brothers, how does Kaiba (and Bakura, for that matter) have different last names? Eh, probably adoption.

Either way, going to a theme park he _owned, _but had probably never set foot inside, crossed the line into pretty damn pathetic. Jou only tolerated these idiots cause Shizuka was all he had, and couldn't let her lose her eyesight.

Annoyingly loud voices cleared his thoughts long enough for him to realize just _how _childish the wimpy tri-colored teen was.

"What should we ride first?" exclaimed Yugi excitedly, temporarily forgetting his cautious demeanor in favor of the fun to come.

"…What goes upside down?" questioned Jounouchi loudly, cutting off Marik and Ryou's responses.

Yugi's fallen expression brought out the first happy smirk Jou had done all day.

* * *

**P.O.V. Change**

Surprise, surprise, putting eight people together who haven't talked to the majority _ever _resulted in uncomfortable silences and irritated bickering. _Why _had Ryou thought this was a good way to make friends? Jou seemed lost in his own little world, Yugi's efforts lost on him, with Kaiba, Malik, and Bakura seeming plain irritated to be there. Marik had run after the cotton candy man a couple of minutes ago, and they had all sped up subconsciously.

Obviously hoping to leave before the crazed boss could return, Malik reiterated what Yugi said to the group, "Seriously Kaiba, isn't there _anything _exciting here?" That doesn't go upside down. Those other words weren't spoken, but they were heavily implied, and Kaiba, oddly, went with it.

"There are go-carts and a track, a spider, a pirate ship, a mechanized swing…"

"Go carts," chorused Malik, Jou, Yami, and Bakura.

Yugi and Ryou just nodded, neither of them caring, as long as vertigo wouldn't get in the way. Kaiba silently accepting, he began to lead the group to what apparently was a go-cart track. They had to sign waivers first, but it's not like it was that big of a deal. After all, the only homicidal maniac they knew of was on the other side of the park.

Jou went straight for red, Yami taking black, Kaiba blue, Malik purple, Yugi yellow, Bakura white, and Ryou taking the only one left…a very girly shade of pink. He sweatdropped, but couldn't complain –after all, if he had been faster, it wouldn't have been an option, and it's not like it would take away the fun of the ride. That, and the go-carts looked pretty badass –each actually the size of a _regular _car. Well, it was no wonder; Kaiba would have looked like a clown if he crammed himself in a _regular _go-cart. The only difference between the go-carts and cars were that the go-carts only had three controls –a left pedal to stop, right to go, and an emergency lever just in case.

An announcer's voice screeching on, they all hunched over dramatically, ready to race. The brown-eyed boy really wasn't sure why Kaiba and Bakura were racing, because-

"_**Go!"**_

"Ha! So slow, _Pharaoh?" _taunted Bakura even though he only had a few inches on Yami, surprising Ryou by sounding completely different from before.

Fortunately enough, though, if mass clicking a button wasn't a strong point, slippery and rocky parts of the road stretched up ahead, making it harder to steer and manage, and thus causing just pumping the gas over and over to be a foolish idea.

The journey to victory would take three circuits through craggy and otherwise bitchy track that tried it's best to get them to crash. Oh, and they didn't just have the _track _to worry about-

"Eat my dust Moneybags!" laughed Jou, jerking his steering wheel sharply to the left, slamming Kaiba's car just as the group reached the slick part of the track.

Bakura, who hadn't sped up since the initial take-off, laughed rather loudly when Kaiba spun his way and ultimately bounced off the wall. Yami, also chuckling, began tailing Bakura, rear-ending him quite a few times. Ryou and Yugi, in comparison to the road rage, drove carefully behind everyone. Though, once the next part of the road was hills, Yugi floored it, zipping up along Bakura, Yami, and Jou.

Ah, a game is a game to Yugi. Like the bullies, games were also a shared interest between the two teens, and it, ultimately, was Yugi's choice that made Ryou smile, and deicide he'd let them all mess around, _then _he'd make his move –staying a comfortable distance behind the others. One thing bothered him, though; where'd Malik go? He wasn't further back, or _anywhere._

Extremely clichéd evil laugher answered his question, as the roar of the missing cart sped into view, clearing the slick track with ease. Malik clenched the sides of the kart, in the _passenger_ seat of the purple vehicle –Marik, for some odd reason, steering with one hand, and holding his cotton candy with the other. Without even thinking about it, Ryou stomped on his gas, flooring it, to Jou's obvious surprise when he pulled alongside him.

"Drive!" cried Ryou at the stunned blonde, "Trust me, _drive!"_

Frowning slightly, Jou kept at his current speed, and as a result, ending up fish-tailing when Marik rammed past him.

Soaring over the bumps at the same pace, Marik waved happily at Ryou, only to collide with Bakura. Snapping all three's heads forward, like a form of head-banging, their cars slowed majorly, propelling Yugi and Ryou at the head, with only Yami further up –Kaiba following closely behind the two interns.

A steep hill remained the last obstacle before the first lap was completed, a time crunch that didn't exist being felt. Watching Yami ascend the hill, Ryou felt his car jolt to the left, slammed by Yugi off balance.

"Gomen Bakura-kun!" he called laughingly, the game giving his shy class-mate a confidence boost.

Pretty much everyone passing him before Ryou could figure out how to back it up, only Marik wasn't beating him, and _that _was only because Malik was trying to take the wheel off his crazy look-alike.

Ultimately obtaining the wheel, but pretty much placing himself in Marik's lap in the process, Malik called over, "Bakura-kun!" And after an elbow from the man he sat himself on, he changed it to, "Ryou-kun! Truce?"

The brown eyed boy smiled determinedly and nodded, him and Malik partnering up to get to the front of the pack. All of them passing through the opening gate for the second time, Malik, Marik, and Ryou only about fifteen seconds slower than the rest, they began their comeback strategy.

Taking the strangely-helpful advice that Marik occasionally gave (when he wasn't hollering obscenities at the others), the two found themselves back in the lead by the time the second lap ended. Coming back to the slick part, they were all pretty much in a line, and able to take the obstacles gracefully. So, the dilemma? The other players.

Yami kept attempting to simultaneously slam Yugi and Kaiba out of the way, Yugi slowing or speeding up to throw his lookalike off, while Kaiba retaliated. Jou trailed, knocked out of the race by none other than Jou's only real enemy, but, unlike earlier that day, trying desperately to gain ground. Malik and Marik had reached a rather unconventional truce, both laughing it up in an insane manor while attempting to eliminate Bakura. Ryou, however, grew excited when he realized that other than the hills, he had a straight shot to the finish line. Pumping the gas pedal with all his might, the car shot forward, the others following him, and he was close, so close…

And then a car was alongside his, knocking his unprotected car into the side, and snapping his neck forward at the impact, smacking his head off the steering wheel. You ever hit your head off the top of a doorway? If you take that, and make the door frame hit your head at an _angle,_ while running as fast as you possibly could, you'd get what Ryou was feeling. Throbbing coursing through the damaged skin, it honestly felt like his head would explode.

No one noticing that he had been injured, he grit his teeth, and went up the hill. Parking his go-cart, the British boy untangled himself from the elaborate seat belt, and went over to the others, gingerly rubbing his forehead.

Everyone else was talking animatedly about silly slip ups and small victories, but Malik noticed Ryou's discomfort, asking, "You all right?"

Immediately leaving the forming-bruise alone, he turned to Malik with a smile, "Yep! Never been better!" Then, pondering, "Who won?"

Malik quirked a half smile, leaning back against one of the columns that supported the little roof, "Yugi, surprisingly. Though you would've if your clone over there hadn't knocked you out of the way."

Ryou sighed, but in reality wasn't at all perplexed –Bakura, competitive, full of himself, cocky Bakura, hated his guts just cause Ryou looked like him. The white-haired intern didn't have to be even remotely smart to see this.

"Hey, Bakura-kun!" Yugi called happily, walking over to him, ignorant to the glare from the _other_ Bakura, "The others want to ride a roller coaster, would you want to go ride the Log Flume or something?"

Nodding his consent, secretly relieved that he was getting away from the hateful boss, the two shortest boys went on their way once rendezvous plans were made for the 'after' part of the rides.

* * *

Nothing particularly interesting happened the rest of the time –it was the stereotypical fun time after the one ice-breaker of a ride. Yugi became an open ball of sunshine to all, Malik and Jou dropped a lot of the hostile front (Ryou knew that some of the hostile front was actually just part of them), Kaiba would speak if spoken to, and even Ryou was able to forget the throbbing sensation in the direct center of his forehead. Marik's personality consisted of a happy, crazed, yet hare-brained guy at all freaking times, so he never posed a problem.

The only one whose kindness never showed itself even _remotely_; Bakura. Sure, the guy was snarky and sarcastic, but only when dealing with one of his three brothers or Malik. Even with Jounouchi and Yugi he'd simply worn a disdainful face, as if they were beneath him, but Ryou…good god, you'd think the poor boy got cosmetic surgery just to mess with the man! Marik seemed to be interested by Malik, and Yami and Yugi's small bouts of conversation were overly _polite_, rather than hostile, but Bakura's glares at Ryou said, "Why are you still here?". Though, almost as if the universe was trying to make Ryou's issue seem insignificant, Jounouchi and Kaiba would fight horridly if forced to say even one word to the other.

On the other hand, Jou probably preferred Kaiba to the psychopath that was his _actual _boss. Another odd change of Jou's was that Yugi had seemed to earn a bit of the honey-eyed boy's respect from the go-cart race, and usually ended up braking up the pointless arguments –Kaiba settling once Jou would quiet down.

They had a few misadventures –Marik attempting to parachute off the Ferris Wheel (Yami stopped him), Yami (especially his hair) getting caught in the crossfires of Jou and Malik's nacho's fight, Yugi and Ryou having to comb said greasy foods out of the tri-colored locks, Marik nabbing Kaiba's coat when they went on the water ride and tossing it into the river (it still was wet), Bakura stealing a security guard's radio (using it to send false alarms, and once to order a pizza), the extremely random conversation over who's accent was worse (Malik's or Jou's), and their random adventure with the karaoke game in the arcade (surprising, Jounouchi won, Malik tying. It was a dare).

Too quickly, the day's light was leeching away, storm clouds approaching on the horizon, and winds beginning to pick up.

"I'm assuming you all need rides back to McDonalds," Kaiba informed us, whipping out his cell, "but it's coming out of your paychecks."

"Even us?" Marik whined, pouting at Kaiba.

Not dignifying the wild-haired blonde with an answer, the group fell into a mellow, peaceful state of mind. Marik had laid his head sleepily on Bakura's shoulder once he lost, to the white haired man's annoyance, and Yugi and Jounouchi talked quietly, Jou still surly, but less hateful. Yami was watching the sun, with a wistful look on his face, and Malik-

"So, what do you think of everyone?" he questioned, moving over to stand by Ryou.

Ryou was beginning to wonder if this was going to become a habit.

"It's a dysfunctional group," Ryou admitted, after thinking about it, and shrugging slightly, "but it somehow works better that way…"

Malik laughed, not his crazy one from earlier, but a quick, likable one, "Couldn't have said it better myself."

The brown-eyed boy found himself smiling at Malik's laugh, deciding that he definitely needed to hear it more.

"Eh, so, whaddya guys think of da bosses?" Jou spoke, attempting kindness as he and Yugi walked over.

Yugi smiled happily, "My other half certainly seems nice."

Malik raised an eyebrow, "Mou hitori no boku? Are you serious, or are you trying to be ironic?"

Yugi blushed, and Jou, oddly, jumped in, "Well, _your_ otha half is creepy! Kinda amusin, but still! Working for dat psycho…ugh." He groaned in annoyance.

Malik nodded, "Bakura seems like he'll be a handful."

"We sounded like babysitters," Yugi chuckled, then recalled, "what about you, Bakura-kun?"

But before he could answer, Kaiba's limo had appeared, oddly really freaking fast for a limo company. They all silently attributed it to "he's rich", and climbed in.

The bond they all shared had splinted, but in the weirdest way –now the interns felt a certain, but intensely uncomfortable, bond, while the bosses were back to square one.

The ride, completed in complete silence only disturbed by Marik's quiet breathing, having fallen asleep, was a peaceful one, remnants of their day floating through Ryou's mind. Reaching the McDonald's, they all parted ways, except for Ryou, who realized he had no way of getting home.

Kaiba, eyeing the small teen calculatingly, finally spoke, "If you need a ride, ask." Striding to his car door, he called over his shoulder, "Tell the driver where your house is, or we'll leave without you."

Complying quickly, they were soon on their way, clouds moving in, and Ryou's head resuming throbbing. Neither of them spoke, not that Ryou had expected his boss to, but, all too soon, they were at his apartment building.

Stumbling out of the limo, Kaiba barely spared him a glance as he called out the ascending window, "Normal time tomorrow. Don't be late."

The wheels squealing, the limo veered away, to take its master home.

Resting for a moment, for they had been _constantly _moving, he admired the sunset and the gusty winds that foretold of rain. Rainclouds both gray and stained with warm taffy began to slink their way in, Ryou smiling faintly at how actually lovely his day had been, his adventures sinking in, as with the knowledge that he would sleep well tonight. To Ryou, there was _nothing _better than falling asleep to rainfall. Shaking his head, once he realized how silly he must've looked, he headed into his building, then up to his room.

Emerging from the elevator, and seeing the light stretch into the dark hallway, he blinked in confusion, the lack of light bulbs making him recall that the landlord told him to change them the other day. Eh, it wasn't really a problem, so he took the well-traveled path to his apartment, only to trip over something on his doormat. Banging his head off the door, and making a rather girly squeal at the horrid pain of hitting his throbbing bump, he then rubbed it in a tired fashion.

Figuring it'd be smarter to _see _what he'd be groping for, he cracked his door and flipped the light switch. The light trickling out, the package from before became visible, only, now dented from his clumsiness. Sincerely hoping that he hadn't damaged it, he brought it in, locking the door behind him only out of habit.

The oranges and fuchsias fading in combat with the storm, he set the package on the kitchen table as he poured water into a mug, then set it in the microwave to boil. Feeling _way _too lazy to cook something qualifying for an actual meal, Ryou went rummaging in his hanging cupboards for some cookies, hot chocolate mix, and little marshmallows. Setting his compilation on the table, the white-haired boy pulled the steaming mug out of the microwave and mixed in the powder with a random spoon in his sink. Removing the spoon from the steaming water and adding the marshmallows, he carried his meal and box into his bedroom just as the pitter-patting of rain began.

Letting the drink cool down on his nightstand, he bit into one of the cookies, set it aside, then pulled the box into his lap. The seal preventing Ryou from easy obtaining the item, he picked at the packing tape with his stubby nails, not feeling like rifling through his apartment for a knife. After about a minute and a half of unsuccessful pursuit, it finally gave, and he yanked the tape off in one swift motion. A letter lay there, on top of wax paper, just waiting for him.

_To Ryou_

_I hope you are doing well. Not enough time to call lately, but I should be able to soon. I've really missed you, and can't wait to come back. Until then, the rent is paid, and there should be food money enclosed. Also, I found something that I'm sure you'll like at the nearby city, so I hope it pleases you._

_Love Dad_

Ah, father. As awkward and stiff with mushy stuff as always.

Pulling the grocery money out of the envelope, Ryou folded back the wax paper, drawing out a long brown cord. Attached to the cord was a beautiful golden ring, about as twice as large as his hand. Smooth to the touch, it had the eye of Horus in the center, surrounded by a pyramid that was encircled and had five prongs extending out at various points. Rubbing his thumb over the famous eye of Horus, Ryou set it down temporarily to strip, grab some clean boxers, and head into the bathroom to shower, emerging ten minutes later.

Gulping down his now-cooled hot chocolate, he pulled on a dark blue, oversized t-shirt, and picked up his ring/necklace thing. Not really thinking too hard about it, he put it on, relishing in the oddly reassuring weight on his chest, and laid down to sleep, the exhaustion suddenly overwhelming him.

Pulling the covers over himself, turning off his bedside lamp, and settling down for the night, Ryou had never noticed the eye glowing ever-so-faintly in the dark.

* * *

**Ahhh! This chapter is the longest thing I've ever written (minus the one-shot that turned into a multi-chap)! I've put some real effort into this, and I just wanna thank all of you who favorited/alerted/reviewed, and please REVIEW! It really motivates me to write faster, and gets better quality (seriously, this chapter was...happy! I honestly have never written a happy scene without sex, sooooo I gave poor Ryou a head wound XD) And I also want to thank QueenKittyM! Your review is the real reason that pushed this chapter out, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed it!**

**~Lyssa-chan (P.S. Happy Valentine's Day! This was supposed to come out a while ago...)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Symposium: Chapter Four**

**"her heart lingered upon**  
**the promises that were shattered, forlorn.**

**it did not matter if the unhealing wounds remained,**  
**in her dream, there was... hope."**

**-http: / browse . deviantart . com/ ? order =9 #/ dyrnfs (remove spaces)**

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_R__a ruled the blue skies today, hot, golden rays from the Heavens burning through the air, tempting Ryou and his sister, Amane, to retreat into the cool waters of the Nile. Giggling, and ducking through the trees, they had no worries about the wild animals –for they knew this little piece of Egypt like the figurative backs of their hands. _

_Not normally allowed outside their extremely green yard during the day, though, they needed to mask their white hair with large amounts of the thick black mud. Hair the color of the moon's rays was taboo to people who worshipped the sun. But that hadn't stopped their father from falling in love with their exotic mother, and didn't dishearten the people who worked in the temple now. No one, however, outside that tight-knit little group knew of them or their mother, who would wear wigs whenever her presence was required. Therefore, even appearing as dirty thief children, who were more likely to be left alone so long as they didn't stray from the familiar riverbanks, was better._

"_Amane-chan!" Ryou called out, concerned, "don't wander too far! The river may be low, but the gators still roam further out!"_

_Turning around, wet white hair gleaming in the sun, the mud washed off, she grinned happily at him, _green_eyes sparkling, "Brother! Who do you mistake me for? Ahmah-what?" She giggled._

_He frowned, those weren't Amane's eyes –hers were the same color as his. "Then, who _are _you?"_

_Scooping up some water, and playfully chucking it at him, she replied, "Kissa, silly Reru! What game do you try to play?"_

_Seemingly forgetting her own question, she launched herself at him, crying, "Catch me Brother!"_

_Both falling into the shallows, her giggling up a storm, Ryou –even if he was called Reru, he knew whom he was-, looked past his possible-sister into the water. A pair of piercing green eyes shone back from his face._

Ryou's eyes flickered open, and he sat up in bed, shaking his head to rid himself of the odd dream. It had been _so _realistic, in fact…his clothes even felt damp! Stretching, and feeling wet cloth rub against his skin, the white-haired boy stopped, and slowly made his way to the bathroom.

_Just a trick. _He kept telling himself. _It was just a really vivid dream…. _

Eyes scanning his bathroom mirror frantically, he found, to his relief that his eyes, thankfully, were still brown…but there were brown smears in his hair, and his clothes _were_ actually damp. Breath catching in his throat, not moving either way, he chanted to himself, _breathe, breathe, bathe, you'll be okay! _

Stumbling over to the brass knobs, he cranked up the heat until the bathroom was so steamed that the mirror became opaque, and stepped in, not removing his clothes. The water burning where it hit skin –Ryou thanked god he left the clothes on, even though he felt like a drowned cat-, he eventually turned the cold on to even it out, then stripped off his clothes, and bathed normally.

Exiting the shower, he donned a towel, his Ring's metal all cloudy from the steam, and went to fish out some clean underwear. He didn't know about other boys, but the idea of wearing filthy clothes near his manhood grossed him out majorly, in the same way that he wouldn't want to _eat _said underpants.

Dressing in a mint-green, short-sleeved button up, regular jeans, and house slippers, he checked his digital clock, and was amazed to discover he woke up an hour early. So, he decided that, instead of making an extensive breakfast, he'd just eat toast and work on something he'd been dreaming up for a while.

He'd had an old rocking chair in his apartment when he first moved in –he'd never seen it before, but it had been there along with all the furniture from his old home. So, just like any randomly received gift, he used it to the best of his abilities. It made the most annoying creaking sounds ever when used, and just generally wasn't comfortable in the least. Ryou used the damn thing every day in some way, until, one day, the back had just completely fallen apart. The wooden poles that supposedly gave you support when you sat had cracked the headboard one day when he threw himself down, breaking the top part, but leaving him with five perfectly usable pieces of wood. Telling his father about his accidental luck had earned him a small set of carving knives the next week, and he had been dying to try them out ever since.

Grabbing a small radio/cd player from his bedroom, he plugged it in in the kitchen, and listened to an oldie station his mom used to love as he practiced carving. He'd been in Boy Scouts back in England, and had used to do this with soap –even though, he quickly found out, that soap was _much _easier, when he ruined the first piece in about twenty minutes. Starting on the next one, this time, with less confident strokes, he started with the feet –boots on, to make it easier to craft. The time announced between every few songs, Ryou knew when it was time for him to go to work.

Sighing in annoyance that he had barely been able to craft the shape for the boots, he slipped the knives and wood pieces into his bag –in case he got bored during lunch break or something.

Flicking off his kitchen light, he locked his door and began his trek to work. Walking at an easy-going pace, the morning fresh and bright from the previous night's rainstorm, a cool breeze blew across his skin, causing him to shiver when it reminded him of the state he had woken up in. The hour of the familiar music and soothing actions let him forget, but obviously couldn't protect him at all times.

At the uncomfortable thoughts, he switched his gaze to stores' front windows, eyes raking over the merchandise, and sometimes cafes, as he moved. Usually narrowing his eyes to see through the rising sun's glare, he hadn't been paying much attention to his reflection. He didn't need to study himself to see the soft, still childish lines of his face and body. Even though his body had a lean sense to it, he didn't like to study it often. But, never before had he seen changes, even though he'd look.

Today he did.

Today, as he looked into the window of an auto-parts store, he saw eyes as green as sea-glass. Just like in his dream. Ryou's breath caught in his throat, him unable to catch it in panic, and the figure in the window did the same. At least the guy in the window was still him. But, what if his eyes _actually were green? _

Shaking his head so hard that his long white hair blocked out his view of the eyes, the spell broke, and he raced from there, head firmly situated on the ground. Miraculously not running into anyone, he entered his work, eyes nearly closed.

"Hey! Ryou!" called Mokuba from the front desk, looking up from some paper work to smile at the white-haired boy, "Good morning. Seto's office is the top floor."

"Mokuba!" Ryou cried, running over and slamming his hands down on the desk, causing the boy to jump, "Please, what color are my eyes?"

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, the brunette replied, "…Brown? Why, shouldn't they be?"

Looking at his reflection in the reflective marble counter, and still seeing the green eyes, Ryou sighed, "No…I guess not."

Mokuba nodded, still frowning slightly, "Well, there's doughnuts if you're hungry, and go on up."

Ryou tried for a smile, failing pretty badly, "Thank you. See you later, Mokuba-kun."

Taking the same elevator as he did the first time, he enjoyed a quiet ride to Kaiba's office while staring at his incorrect reflection, horror at the monstrosity freezing his gaze.

"What do you want from me?" he whispered.

Looking down at the only other rich color on him, the Ring, he couldn't help but wonder if it had some sort of Egyptian Hallucination drug sprinkled on it, or something.

The dinging of his arriving floor being his only answer, he sighed and called out his arrival to Kaiba. Avoiding the stairs up to the living room area, he took the tiled path over to the large desk where Kaiba sat, typing away at a large computer system.

Without looking up, he murmured in a strict, entranced way, "See that filing cabinet with the open drawers? They're sorted alphabetically, but I need them sorted by potential for the ones that haven't been sold yet, and by profit/potential profit for the ones that are on the market."

Ryou hadn't expected to get an extremely important job yet, so he wasn't surprised in the least. Hey, at least the metal of the cabinets wasn't designed to be reflective….

* * *

**P.O.V. Change**

Yugi's blonde bangs, damp from the sea-spray, flapped gently in his face as the boat sped toward the small island that the business took place on. The head of the company, a man named Maximillion Pegasus, lived in America, but currently was on a trip to Egypt, leaving his business partner, Yami, in charge and able to control the company a little closer to Japan.

And that's why the tri-colored haired teen rode on something resembling a speed boat, but with a single cabin. The cabin was lavish in crimson and violet, along with complementary breakfast buffet, and a flat screen that had the world's most comfy couch in front of it. Not wanting to fall asleep, he had strayed out into the fresh summer air, made cool by the remnants of the previous night's storm and the wind.

The driver of the boat had asked not to be disturbed when Yugi boarded, so he stayed alone, with his peaceful thoughts, for the next half an hour. At some point, though, his thoughts wandered to his interview –wondering what his new boss could possibly be like in the office after such an odd interview.

_Smiling happily at his grandfather as he left their game shop, Yugi left at the crack of dawn for the piers –ready for his interview. Around five in the morning, no one was out and about, and the amethyst-eyed boy knew that even walking he'd make it to his destination bright and early. _

_Taking a long drink from his thermos, to keep himself awake, he listened to birds cawing at each other from the tops of buildings. The warm soup in his thermos clouding his thoughts in a pleasant haze, the short teen watched the rising sun stain everything around him, calling birds now aflight above him. _

_Docks coming into view, and him hardly able to contain his relief that barely twenty people waited for the boat currently, he sped up, seemingly thinking that many more people would arrive in the few yards that stood between him and the line. Establishing his place in line, discontented to discover that the waiting period lasted a lot longer than he first imagined, all Yugi had to diminish his nerves was a rubix cube that he'd been playing with for about a week now. _

_Around four hours later, the cube nearly complete, three freaking _huge _cruise ships docked at their respective piers, then released three large suited men with bullhorns, shouting:_

"_Everyone! Choose your boat, come aboard and enter a room, instructions will be given once the door is locked."_

_Choosing just to board the boat in front of him, Yugi climbed up the long ramp, turned left, and went down to sublevel A using the heavy black marble staircase at the center of the deck, entering room 10A. _

_Locking the door like the man told them to, Yugi saw the obvious thing that stood out was the desk, a rather large box sitting on the middle of the heavy brass thing. Walking over, and sitting in the matching __brass chair, Yugi picked up the box and shook it, hearing the surprisingly familiar sounds of puzzle pieces swishing around. _

_Confused, but certainly not unhappy with the gift, he found a small note under the puzzle, and set it to the side. The note told him that the rooms had a bathroom, a fridge, and a hidden camera. The challenge was to put the puzzle together as fast as possible, and that the camera would pause their time for bathroom and food breaks. _

_Yugi, frowning at the weird challenge, nevertheless lifted the cover from the blank puzzle box, seeing the photo to base it off of resting on the pieces. The attempted picture was of a multi-colored, patched up heart positively dripping with stitches, tape, and gum. The background was various shades of red. Rather depressing, actually… __**(1) **__But, entering what his Jii-chan liked to call his "Game Mode", Yugi zoned, focusing solely on the broken-up picture. Not slowing even long enough to check the clock, he only took a break once, to use the bathroom from his soup earlier. _

_Pushing the last piece into place, a soft 'ding' resounded throughout the room, followed by a voice coming from the inter-com._

"_Congratulations." Spoke a deep voice, "Once you are ready, please head up to the deck from whence you came, and prepare for the results."_

_Standing to leave, the tri-colored haired boy stopped only when his growling stoumach _made _him stop. Sweatdropping a bit, he raided the fridge, taking two sandwiches and some juice with him as he departed from the room. Long story short, he put the puzzle together fastest, and got the job._

_Yugi found that rather strange, and asked about it, but was only told, "this is a _gaming _corporation, sir. Our presidents only care for imagination and potential."_

_Given a ferry pass and work schedule, Yugi filled out the required papers, then set out to tell his Jii-chan the good news._

_And, oddly, his Jii-chan had been waiting for him._

"_Yugi!" he exclaimed when he caught sight of his grandson, "How did the interview go?"_

"_I got the job, Jii-chan!" exclaimed Yugi excitedly, not bothering to tell him there hadn't even been an interview._

_Eyebrows twitching up into a pleased smile, the gray-haired man spoke, "Then that will make this even better for you."_

"_Make what better?" Yugi asked, but the short old man was already retreating into the shop._

_Walking up to the counter, then rummaging behind it, he pulled out a small golden box, with a nostalgic smile on his face._

"_This," he spoke reverently, "is the Thousand-year puzzle. No one has ever been able to solve it –even the scientists who found it died mysterious deaths! But it is said whoever solves it will gain the power of the shadow games, and have their wish come true!"_

_Yugi's wide purple eyes gazed at it in awe, "Can-can I hold it, Jii-chan?"_

_Jii-chan laughed, "Even better, it's yours!"_

_Taking the heavy golden box into his hands, Yugi couldn't help but ponder the name…. Sennen puzzle…. Maybe they were Egyptian –maybe the brothers knew something about them! Or it could just be a coincidence…. Better he didn't embarrass himself, really… _

_Rinsing out his thermos in the kitchen, he then headed upstairs, more than ready to try out the so-called unsolvable puzzle._

And so far, that's what it had been for him. He worked on it every chance he got when he was alone –he didn't want to chance losing it. For this very same reason, he never took it off his person –even now keeping it in a small green knapsack on his back.

Lost in his thoughts, Yugi hadn't noticed the island approaching. Pulling into a wooden, white ranch style boat house, many suits jumped aboard, to pull it to the dock, to fasten it, and to come find him.

"Mr. Mutou?" asked one gruffly, "If you'll please come this way, Yami-sama is waiting for you."

Bowing politely to the man, they exited the fancy building to encounter an island of epic proportions. A castle on the edge of a cliff (with a _huge _staircase leading up to it), forest as far as the eye could see, and a mountain peak behind the castle, higher than the one the castle sat on.

Beautiful, but very isolated. Other than the suits inside the boathouse, he had seen no one. Even though the castle could also double as a home, Yugi sure hoped Yami stayed somewhere else, the place being _way _too big for one man.

Taking the stairs at a pace that was almost running, to keep up with the suit's longer legs, he reached the top in about five minutes, out of breath and panting heavily.

Ionic columns lined up alongside a red carpet on top of polished stone tiles, with decorative oil paintings over hand-painted floral wallpaper, and vases adorned throughout the room made up the grand hall.

Yugi looked around with wide eyes, never having been in such a…pointlessly lavish room before. The graphic paintings of ancient cultures on both the pottery _and _the paintings were the things that held the short boy's attention, though. He felt a sense of tingling regret that he wouldn't get to observe the room more, but he knew he had a job to do, so he bit back the disappointment.

Strolling down a hallway that appeared as if patterned in yellow taffeta, shocked to discover the business' headquarters looked more like a house than a place of work, he noticed the electric oil lamps really needed a dusting, and that most of the doors in the long hallway probably hadn't been opened in months.

Reaching a large red wood set of double doors at the end, the suit burst through them in the most obnoxiously clichéd way possible, to reveal a large room with two floors, and a large drop in the middle. Only, in the very middle of the room, with only two pathways to get to it, stood a tarp with none other than Yami, halfway under it.

"Yami-sama," announced the suit, already in a deep bow, pulling Yugi down too, "your intern is here."

Straightening up, and turning to face them, his serious face made no change as he nodded to the suit, "Thank you Kemo."

Bowing yet again, Kemo left, most likely to return to his job, and his boss moved his intense gaze onto Yugi.

Yugi blushed lightly, noting even how in baggy jeans and an over-sized black 'I 3 Egypt' T-shirt, that Yami still managed to make it look cool. The high-schooler felt rather envious, wishing _he_could pull off that aura of self-assuredness.

"Yugi," he spoke, "good timing. Come here and help me, but take off your jacket first."

The shorter boy had a love of routine, and even wore his school uniform in the summer. Ever since a time he left his jacket on a park bench, then had it stolen by a hobo, he refused to take it off anywhere but his (and his best friend, Tea's) house. But, considering he had no clue about his boss' temper, he reluctantly took it off, hanging it off the decorative fence on the stairs leading to the next floor.

Back where he started, Yami pointed at the tarp with a wrench, and asked, "Yugi, would you mind helping me out here?"

Reeling in his excitement for actually getting to help with something _big _his _very first day_, he nodded.

Nodding his spikey head, Yami instructed, **(2) **"The system for elevating the platform _here _is jammed, and needs whatever's jamming it removed. Oil the cogs, also, while you're down there."

Yugi's face went an embarrassed red –if the only reason Yami picked him was actually his _size_, not his skill, _god _would he feel stupid.

Ducking his head and taking the wrench off the taller boy, he got down on his knees and army crawled into the tight space, searching for whatever clogged the system. Squinting from the bright lamp under the tarp, he used his foot to push down on the pressure plate, watching the gears grind and strain against…a water bottle. Way in the back, in a crevice that most people wouldn't be able to reach, barely illuminated by the light, laid the problem. Grabbing the bottle, while wedging his body in a rather uncomfortable position, he slid it horizontally, the bottle coming out rather easily. Sliding himself, _much _less simply this way, out, he emerged from under the plastic blue tarp, brandishing the intruder to his boss.

"That the problem?" he sounded surprised. To Yugi's afirmitory nod, he smirked slightly, "Well done partner."

Yugi straightened up, smiling when his bangs hid his face.

Aibou. He liked the sound of that.

Then, remembering the second part of the job, went back under to oil the previously-trapped cogs.

* * *

**P.O.V. Change**

Malik left his shabby apartment with the disgustingly sticky taste of medicine on his lips –a necessary evil after he accidentally ate meat sauce the previous night after he arrived "home", if his shitty apartment could qualify as such.

Ordering take-out, the Egyptian never expected that what _appeared _to be soy-sauce was actually gravy. Having never eaten meat, his stomach could barely digest it, forcing him into consuming the heavy medicines that now resided in him.

No, the blonde _would __**not **_miss his first day of work –it was all Isis needed to pull him back to those bloody passageways under the Egyptian sands.

Luckily for him, Malik didn't have to waste money Isis didn't give him on cab-fare, for his crappy apartment resided in the bad part of the South side, near the docks –where, conveniently, Bakura-_sama's _business resided. If he didn't know that the business was often involved in making/sending illegal weapons, he'd question it. Yeah, they informed him of that, after the frickin strip search, and intense interrogation. With a lie detector.

The tanned blonde shook his head in annoyed remembrance, knowing that his boss's head had a few loose bolts. Speaking of a few bolts loose…Malik spared a glance down at his right pocket in annoyance, remembering his elder sister's words.

"_Malik," she spoke worriedly, "the Necklace has revealed-"_

_He sighed, "Really? Again, Nee-san? How long will you continue to claim that that piece of junk actually does that?"_

_She gave him an odd look, "You've seen it work, I am not arguing about this. You are to take the necklace with you. It has shown me that you will need it."_

_When he finally sighed in irritation, knowing she wouldn't let him go otherwise, he snatched the heirloom angrily, her then rewarding him with a contradicting, kind smile. _

_Never having been allowed to touch the torque before then, he turned it over in his palm, watching the eye of_ _Anubis flash in the torch light, and, on a strange whim, then looked up to see his sister watching him intently. Isis' eyes were gleaming in that clever way Malik had seen so many times when she claimed to "have seen the future", but there in laid something new this time. _

_Saddness and worry. And, for some odd reason, possibly due to the anxiety the necklace gave him, he had a feeling her emotions had nothing and everything to do with him leaving._

Resisting the urge to lift the bulge from his pocket, he crossed his arms, for some odd reason feeling like they'd disobey him if he didn't keep then trapped.

The sewer-like smell of the docks rose quickly, violating his nose and warning him of his arrival. Boxy and boringly gray, the warehouses loomed over him, the only difference between Bakura's warehouses (yes, **one** was _far _too small for a guy who _obviously_ had nothing to compensate for) and the others being the golden eye of Anubis painted sloppily on the sides of his buildings.

Malik hated guys like that, the "I can make it work cause I'm me and why are we even discussing this?" type.

Walking down the aisle with the front doors, until the one with the messy number '5' painted on it rested in front of him, Malik took the three concrete steps, and knocked in the secret way they taught him; six bangs in a circle and one in the center, in rapid succession, then to place him palm in the center of his circle for exactly nine seconds, pushing after the time passed.

Once he did so, the apparently-hollow floor under him dropped out into a slide that careened him down, yelling like a madman, to Ra-knows-where.

Hitting against a metal chute, cursing loudly, he began to slide down it –akin to something in an old cartoon. The greased, worn down metal sped under him as he desperately attempted to find purchase and stop his wild ride. The tunnel curving toward the right, then dropping sharply, Malik could see nothing with the light from the top of the chute gone. Finally slipping through what felt like an opening, Malik free-fell for all of twenty seconds, and landed, hard, on a worn-down mattress with a small grunt.

Sitting up, rubbing his sore back, he glanced around in the dim light, searching for the intolerable psychopath that passed for a genius in industry.

Grasping something in his hand, he snatched his hand back, dropping whatever he held in the process. A flashing, golden eye shone up at him as the necklace fell from his alarmed grasp.

He didn't recall when he had reached for it, and that alarmed him even more then the fact that it was _glowing_. Not able to control his motions any more, he grasped for it and its light. The moment his skin came into contact with the surprisingly cool metal, he felt his eyes burn and flicker with images his brain was not capable of translating, and he sank to the ground, eyes on fire and sucking him in.

"_Rishid!" cried Isis for some odd reason, hurrying down the stone steps into the tomb._

"_What's wrong Nee-san?" he called in confusion, reaching out to her._

_Malik didn't understand; who was Rishid? And why did Isis look so scared? Curiosity overcoming him, he chased after her, stopping only when she did –at a small room with a messed-up bed. _His _room, Marik realized with a start. Except, where was his TV? His magazines and dresser? In fact, where was his bedframe?_

"_Rishid!" he felt the strange word burst from his lips uncontrollably, his body then running of its own accord until screams were heard, "Rishid!"_

_Finding the room, the room where he and Isis kept the sacred necklace, Malik saw, in horror, a teen, perhaps Isis' age, being whipped by a man who looked horribly familiar._

"_Rishid!" Malik screamed in horror, no longer caring how he knew the man's name._

"_Marik..sa…ma…" he whispered, head thumping against the stone in apparent death. Marik?_

_The man's sides heaving in anger, Isis finally caught up, gasping in horror when she caught sight of Rishid._

_The man turned, glaring the siblings down._

"_Marik, Isis," he growled, "watch carefully. _This _is the fate of those who disobey the rules. Now, because of your foolishness, the servant must die!"_

"_Rishid…" Malik whispered, then clutched his head in pain, a familiar prescence clouding and crushing his mind._

"_Marik…" Isis cried, worried for him._

_Malik now understood why they were calling him 'Marik' –it was horrible forewarning._

"_You're next! Marik!" announced his __**father, dear boy. That's our father of the past. Laughed a voice.**_

_Pulling back the whip and flicking his wrist, it hurtled toward his only son, until Malik felt himself being _pushed _out of the body, none too gently either, as the other soul caught and held the weapon with his wrist._

_Malik, now his sixteen year old self, realized that the body he just came out of was that of a child's –Isis _had _looked younger. But now, the child's body –his body, when he was that age– had Anubis' eye glowing on his forehead, and the crazed hair of one Marik Sennen. _

_Isis noticed immediately, and backed away in fright._

_Marik's voice filtered out of the child's body, "Thank you for getting rid of Rishid for me.." He laughed, "It's so much better!"_

_Confused beyond belief, Malik pondered –if this was _Marik's_ childhood, why did it feel familiar? Stretching his mind, struggling to remember his childhood, and panicking when he was unable to, he watched on helplessly, not knowing what else to do._

_Having walked over to the shrine that held the necklace, he declared, "This is mine now."_

"_No!" commanded the father, "Do not touch the Sennen items! Only the Pharaoh's chosen Priests may touch them!"_

_Marik smirked and drew out a long, golden rod, that was way too big for a child, crowing, "It seems to have no problem accepting me as its master."_

"_Do not touch that!" bellowed the father, still not sensing the killer vibe from Marik._

"_SHUT UP!" screamed the child, the golden eye on the rod activating and throwing the father across the room, pinning him to the wall using yellow squiggly lines._

"_Marik!" cried Isis, rushing toward him, only to attain the same fate as the father, the difference being that the collision knocked her out._

"_So, you're gonna resist me too…" he sighed in what appeared to be a regretful tone, "You'll have to die too now, but I think I'll start with father…"_

_Pulling a sheath off the rod that Malik hadn't realized was there, he stared in horror as a sharp blade glinted in the torch light, and plunged itself into the father's chest._

Gold light all that he could see, Malik took account of his body: he currently kneeled on the basement floor, his old goal of finding his way out of there seeming extremely insignificant, attempting to bully his heart into beating normally again.

The necklace was now several feet away from him, shining at an elevator Malik hadn't noticed in the dark.

His chest heaving, the dark he knew so well now threatening with psycho children, the blonde threw himself forward, stumbling, but not falling with the momentum, scooped up the necklace, and slammed the elevator's button with all his strength. The teen crammed the necklace back into his pants' right pocket while he mentally begged for the stupid thing to arrive, biting his lip with the adrenaline rush from his fear. The doors thankfully sliding open, Bakura standing there waiting for him with his arms crossed and a smug smile on his lips, Malik felt annoyingly relieved that he wouldn't have to be alone with the thoughts of his strange hallucination.

"Well, congrats," Sarcasm. "I _never _thought it would take you **that** long, and my expectations were low to begin with."

"I got lost." The lie sprung to his lips smoothly enough, even though he hadn't planned on lying.

"Hmph," Bakura sneered, "perhaps I made a mistake in hiring you. Now, are you going to come in, or do I have to carry you?"

Malik scoffed, "Like you could carry _Yugi _with _those_ arms."

Then, call the tanned intern crazy, Bakura's hair literally _bristled_ like a pissed cat's, though his cold brown eyes told another story –staying focused on the ascending red dots of the floors.

Malik smirked at the unofficial win, and rode silently to sub floor two, not really wanting to know which sub-floor he just came from.

Exiting the elevator into the bland crème hallway, his boss following him, Bakura smirked down at his hand, the gold there proving that he had truly won their test of dominance.

**

* * *

**

P.O.V. Change

A week passed with no other exciting happenings, other than Ryou's to-the-point-of-hilarity aversion to reflective surfaces –he hadn't had any more weird dreams, though he still feared that he'd see those eyes again, if caught off guard.

Now, the teen wasn't an idiot –the dream, the _Egyptian _dream, he'd had when he awoke to find himself drenched occurred the same night he'd received an artifact.

An Egyptian artifact. From _Egypt. _

And, even though there were perfectly logical and believable explanations –the stress of the previous days and the gift had mingled in his mind, fooling his subconscious to see and feel things that weren't there- he remained unable to put it behind him, and had stuffed it into his three-drawer night stand, covering it with an old shirt, almost as if it could watch him otherwise.

His goal was to forget about all the freakiness that the Ring may have brought, and, during the week when he worked, he accomplished his goal effortlessly –his behavior perfectly angelic, and gaining him a close friend in the younger Kaiba. But, on his off-day, Ryou had worked especially hard to keep his mind away from the golden artifact.

He'd spent all of May 8th, a Friday, whittling on a 6' by 8' piece of pine wood he had bought at a craft store, having long ago ruined the original wood.

Sleeping in til noon, only waking up when the toilet and breakfast called louder to him than his bed, the white-haired boy enjoyed a relaxing off-day in front of the TV watching pointless dramas while he worked. Briefly pondering whether to call Miho about going out for dinner (strictly platonic, though), his thoughts were laid to rest as he heard his pager vibrate on the end table next to him, practically buried under all the wood shavings.

It said: _Wear clothes for clubbing. The limo will pick you up at 9:30._

The brown-eyed teen checked the clock: It was 7:30. And, not to sound like a teenage girl, but with _his _wardrobe, even two and a half hours wouldn't be enough time. Maybe he _should _call Miho…

**

* * *

**

(1) My friend made me this exact picture ^-^ I'm not sure if I'm allowed to post it, but, trust me, it's both meaningful and depressing! And it's all mine! Bwahahaha! I won't ask her, though, cause she's a true ar-tisest, and would probably be insulted by me asking.

**(2)Just letting you all know, the machine they're working on is the duel arena from the anime in the first season. Yes, Kaiba invented them, but I figured things that big would have to be shipped in pieces and assembled. Make sense?**

***groans in absolute frustration* God, _so _many things wrong with this chapter...one, it took WAY TOO FREAKIN LONG to finish, and it isn't even that long for the POVs. I should just stick to the two max I had going on *sighs* Sorry if any of you found any of that irritating. And, just feel the need to point this out now, this story will always put the plot first (unless I do a holiday-savvy chapter, or a gift chapter), so don't expect any actual relationships too soon. Also, next chapter will be fun for all who read this for the tendershipping ^-^ Expect the next chapter by my birthday (April 29th!) PLEASE REVIEW AND RESPOND IT REALLY MAKES ME UPDATE FASTER! You can even criticize if you want, so long as it's constructive. Oh, and, sorry bout the rant heh heh...**

**~Lyssa-chan**

**P.S. New Abridged episode's out! Go check it out!**


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